Hybrid Rainbow
by Bunny Hooded Bombchu
Summary: A series of HarukoNaota oneshots and drabbles. Genres and ratings will vary. Newly edited.
1. Beautiful morning with you, aspect one

Nandaba Naota stumbled through the thick, lazy, haze of nothing that had settled over Mabase. Stumbled. Staggered. At one point, he even had to crawl, he was so goddamn tired.

_But why should I be? I've been sleeping ever since she left._

It was three in the morning. A cursed hour in a cursed town, and he still continued on. No stopping, because it'd be too tempting to never start again and the fog would overtake him then and there. He couldn't let that happen.

_I can't wait for her if it takes me..._

After what could have easily been a few minutes or a few days, he reached a hauntingly familiar place- The vending machine on the bridge. Thoughts of Mamimi and checking for her presence stirred in the back of his mind, but he shook them out of his head. That wasn't important.

However, he didn't know _what_ exactly was important at that point. Only what wasn't. The vending machine wasn't important. The bridge wasn't important. The river wasn't important. The railing wasn't important. There was nothing here. Nothing to be done. The only possible action he could take was to buy something from the vending machine, but he didn't even have to reach into his pockets to know he didn't have a cent on him.

Naota wasn't entirely sure what he was doing there, only that he _should_ be there. He was _supposed_ to be. There was _something_ important, but what?

He looked to the sky as if expecting to find an answer.

He blinked and tears sprang to his eyes as the sky, as if sympathetic to his plight, sent his answer hurtling towards him on a bright yellow vespa, laughing madly and swinging a bass guitar.

_Haruko…_

His answer jumped off of her vespa and was now falling towards him, her bass poised, ready to whack him across the head and pull forth a thousand new miracles from the gaping hole it would leave, and he was ready. He had been ready for years. Nothing could've possibly moved him from that spot on the bridge.

…_I love you…_

Bass guitar hit flesh in a brilliant fireworks display of sound. Naota felt the impact, saw her smile, knew the portal was open and he could live again, _they _could live again and he'd never have to be alone anymore…

But he felt no pain. No pain at all.

There was a sudden, intense stab of realization. The fog closed in.

…_no…_

Vision growing hazy, he reached out and wrapped his arms around Haruko. She had once towered over him, but to his horror she had grown smaller. Just a moment ago things had been just like before… He tried to yell her name, but no sound would come out.

…_No!_

The fog swirled around them enticingly. He hung on to her and an insane quivering voice in the back of his mind prayed that somehow, some way, the girl from the sky would stay with him, but soon he only grasped air and there was no longer a girl from the sky in his arms. All that was left was the memory of her smile and the spicy scent of her presence, but he knew that neither of those were the real thing, and soon he wouldn't even have the memory and the scent to cling to because he would soon-

_NO!_

-wake-

_PLEASE!_

-up.

"No," he whispered into his pillow as consciousness slowly brought him back into his bed, back into his apartment, back into his reality where nothing amazing ever happened.

* * *

Eh...that could've been a little better...eh well. Yeah, this'll be a fun little side project while I work on Instant Music...Haru/Nao is a nice pairing to write about...plenty of room to improvise in almost any direction, y'know? Oh well. Hope you enjoy, I understand if you didn't, either way please review! 


	2. Gazelle City

Amarao liked to think that he was amazing- far more so than he actually was.

He worked at the Interstellar Immigration Department, where his skill and prowess were badly needed…or so he thought. He was the joke of all the higher-ups, and they only kept him around so they could poke fun at him. Of course, Amarao never knew that.

He thought far too highly of himself…However, like all of the lesser, average men and women, he could not possibly start the day without a cup of coffee.

And so he grabbed his mug to take on the road to work with him and had one hand on the doorknob, but then he did something he would regret later- he looked down.

Amarao didn't care for his apartment. It was small and cramped and the neighbors were loud. But, worst of all, there was no mailbox, and he had a mail slot in his door instead. He always hated that. People could stick whatever they wanted into his apartment, be it letters, magazines, deadly poisonous gas, or explosives.

But someone had slipped a card through the slot instead.

Amaraos eyebrows twitched. Written in neat calligraphy were the words "_Happily announcing our marriage…"_

One thing he hated more than dangerous mail slots were cards like these. People would always, without fail, send them to flaunt their happiness to others whether the others cared or not. Most common of these were those Christmas Cards idiotic parents would send with pictures of their children attached. Sick.

But a marriage? That was a little less common…but even more infuriating. He knew no one that was getting married. Hell, he didn't even know anyone with any love interest of any kind. It simply wasn't something he cared about.

He picked up the card. Opened it. Stared. Dropped his mug, the coffee staining the carpet as well as his expensive shoes.

He never actually read the inscription in the card. The picture was enough.

A woman of pink hair, yellow eyes, and gleaming evil smile wrapping herself around that damn kid, both looking as if they'd never get tired of any of it.

One of Amaraos eyebrows fell off to float around in the puddle of coffee at his feet, ignored.

* * *

Well...that was short...oh well... 


	3. Sayonara Universe

She had come back too late.

It was early in the morning, and the sun was rising as if to scare away the fog that relentlessly blanketed the town of Mabase. Of course, the sun did that every morning and should've realized by then that the fog would never leave.

She turned to watch the sunrise.

Standing in the local town graveyard, Haruhara Haruko looked lonely, out of place, and much much older than she used to be. Her bubblegum-pink hair hung loose and damp over her face, her usual gleaming smirk replaced with a stony grimness and a dreadful sense of finality.

She watched the sunrise because she couldn't look at anything else.

From the local town graveyard, Mabase looked as desolate as it always had. Only to be expected- despite the currents of change that constantly molded the world, Mabase would always remain the same. And yet, there had been a massive, earth-shattering change.

Because at her feet were two stone markers, side by side.

_Nandaba Naota_, one read.

_Nandaba Eri_, read the other.

Both read _1988-2067._

She had come back too late.


	4. Nonfiction

A gloved hand slammed an empty glass down on the counter for what seemed to be the hundredth time. It was wordlessly refilled by a very-stereotypical silent bartender.

Haruhara Haruko downed the glass in one big gulp and slammed it back down, once again, on the counter, too drunk at this point to even yell a crisp 'hit me!' like she had always done when she first sat down.

The others in the bar glanced at her. They all knew who she was, what she did for a living, what she was looking for, and that she really enjoyed her liquor. However, she seemed to be enjoying it far more than usual tonight.

Some of them considered asking her what was the matter, but beyond the dull glazed-over look in her eyes, they imagined that they could see signs of a still sober, still likely to behead you with a guitar, Haruhara Haruko.

They didn't have to worry about it though. The sober Haruko was gone for the night.

As if to prove it, someone eventually did come forward to approach the slumped figure at the counter, one of her comrades of the Galaxy Space Police Brotherhood.

"Hey, Haruhara…you feeling ok?"

There was a pause, followed by a drunken mutter that no one could hear. This was followed by similar mutters, another gulp of alcohol, and more slurred mutters.

The comrade tried again. "So, um…I hear you just got back from Earth. How'd that go?"

There was a pause as Haruko slammed the glass on the counter once again.

"...Never should've left," came a barely audible slurred whisper.

The comrade didn't quite know how to react to that, so he backed off and left her to grumble to herself. "…Should've stayed…s'not like I need Atomsk anyway…s'too young to take with me, so I should've…stayed…" She looked up, as if towards some trace of sanity, a bit of light.

But then she wavered and went faint, letting go of the glass for the first time that evening, and toppled off of the barstool, hitting the ground with a heavy thump that shook the ground and everyone standing on it.


End file.
